For You and For Me
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: Set slightly before s5, Jean and Lucien give each other some things that are gifts for themselves as much as they are for the other.


**For You and For Me**

Lucien stared at the open boxes on his bed, utterly confused. "Jean!" he shouted.

A moment later, the familiar footfalls reached the bedroom. "Yes, Lucien?"

"What's this?"

"New clothes," she replied simply.

"Where did they come from?"

"I bought them for you."

He was still confused. "Why?"

"Because all you wear are those lovely suits, and I think you'd be much happier if you weren't so formal all the time," she replied.

Lucien raised his brow. "I seem to recall a time when you frowned at my lack of formality."

"Yes, well, there's a time and a place for everything, and you seem to have gone too far toward formality, I think."

He smirked. "So it isn't just that you're my fiancée now, and you finally get to dress me how you like?"

She pursed her lips, trying not to smile. "Well, that was why I didn't mind dipping into the household finances to pay for your new clothes."

Lucien laughed. "Thank you, Jean. I'm sure I'll love everything you've picked out for me. Might be nice to be a bit more comfortable."

Over the next few days, Lucien began wearing the new slacks and sweaters that Jean had bought for him. He enjoyed the feeling of wearing clothes she had picked out just for him. He had noticed the satisfied smile she got whenever she saw him wear something she got for him.

And it gave him an idea.

When she was gone shopping one afternoon, Lucien discreetly went out to where the laundry was drying on the line and looked through Jean's blouses and skirts and dresses. He tried to check for a label, but she made most of her clothes herself. One dress, however, had been bought, and gave him the information he was looking for.

Armed with his new knowledge, Lucien set out for one of the women's clothing stores in town to find some things for Jean. He browsed the racks of dresses, trying to imagine what they'd look like on her.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Blake. Looking for something for Mrs. Beazley?" the shopkeeper asked.

"Yes, actually. Something different. I don't want to get her anything she already has or could make for herself.

The woman sighed. "You know, I sometimes worry that Mrs. Beazley could put me out of business if she wanted to. Her work is so lovely."

Lucien smiled. "Everything she does is lovely."

The shopkeeper then directed Lucien around the store, helping him choose things in the correct colors and sizes. He was quite excited to see her wearing the things he had chosen, and he hoped she would like them.

Jean returned home late in the afternoon from the market and immediately started making dinner.

All through the meal, Lucien seemed to be smiling for no reason. He was trying a bit too hard to engage Charlie in conversation and distinctly kept his attention off Jean. She wanted to ask him about it but not in front of Charlie; knowing Lucien, he was probably thinking about something entirely inappropriate for polite company.

But after dinner, he disappeared into his study. Jean cleaned up the kitchen and went to her room to fetch the knitting she'd been working on before bed the night before.

On her bed were a set of boxes. Curious, she opened everything and was shocked at what she found. Immediately, she went downstairs to Lucien's study.

"Hello, love," he greeted with that secretive smile of his.

She frowned. "Are you responsible for the packages on my bed?"

"Do you like them?" he asked eagerly.

"I don't know. I wasn't expecting you to buy clothes for me," she replied with a slight blush in her cheeks.

"You bought clothes for me. I wanted to return the favor. But I can return anything you don't like. Though I did try to find things I thought would look nice on you."

"It's…different," she said diplomatically. And it was different. He had chosen items for her that she would have never chosen for herself.

And that was how, for the first time in her life, Jean Beazely wore trousers. They were surprisingly comfortable. And the blue-green checkered pattern was quite nice.

The first time she wore them, Lucien was dumbstruck. He couldn't seem to find words.

"What do you think? Do you like them?" she asked him nervously.

"I…oh Jean…it's…" he stammered.

She grinned proudly. Yes, he did like the trousers. In fact, he liked them so much that instead of saying anything coherent, he had simply kissed her passionately and ran his hands across her hips, squeezing her bum at the curve conveniently provided by her new clothing.

Both Jean and Lucien began to dress much more casually, based on the items that each had bought for the other. They each felt the pride of knowing the other wore clothes they had purposefully chosen for each other.

The fun was not to last, however. One evening, Rose had stayed after dinner with Charlie. Jean was still working in the kitchen and Lucien was in his study. Charlie and Rose sat together in the parlor.

"What's been going on with Jean and Lucien?" Rose asked.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked in turn.

"I mean Jean's never worn slacks before, has she? And I don't know if I've ever seen Lucien not wearing his full suit. It's sort of weird."

Charlie just shrugged. He was unconcerned with the clothing choices of those around him.

Rose continued, "Jean does look rather good though. I didn't really realize that her usual outfits hide her figure. She's rather fit, isn't she?"

"I guess." Charlie didn't want to think of Mrs. Beazley that way.

"But Lucien…did you see that green cardigan he was wearing? Makes him look a bit grandfatherly. He isn't bad looking, for a man his age. But with that sweater, he seems downright ancient."

"I really hadn't noticed," Charlie replied, hoping she'd get off this strange tangent.

Rose could see he was uninterested, so she changed the subject to something else.

Unbeknownst to the couple in the parlor, Jean had overheard everything Rose said. At first, she was struck with unexpected pride over the comments about her trousers. But the things she said about Lucien had felt quite rude to Jean's ears. She frowned, trying not to be too annoyed. Rose was certainly entitled to her opinion, as unwelcome as it was. Jean just hoped that Lucien hadn't heard what she'd said.

But he had. He, like Jean, had overheard everything. And he immediately took off the offending green cardigan and tossed it on one of the chairs across from his desk. Jean had bought it for him, and it was quite comfortable, but he didn't want anyone looking at him and seeing a frail old man. And apparently, that was the effect of the cardigan.

Later, after Charlie and Rose had vacated the area, Jean made her way to the study, slightly worried at how quiet Lucien had been all evening. He didn't often shut himself away anymore, not when he didn't have a case taking his attention. She knocked softly on the closed door and entered without waiting for a reply.

He gave a stiff smile when he saw her. "Ah, Jean, hello."

"I thought I'd have a sherry. Would you like to join me?" She immediately saw that he was wearing only his shirt and then noticed the cardigan balled up on the chair. "On second thought, why don't I share some of your scotch, hmm?" she suggested, entering the room and closing the door behind her.

Lucien unscrewed the cap of the bottle sitting on his desk and poured more into the glass he'd been drinking from before holding it out for Jean.

She took a swig of it, grimacing slightly at the burn of it in her mouth. "Were you feeling a bit warm?" she asked casually, nodding towards the shunned sweater.

"No, I…" He trailed off, not wanting to admit to what he'd overheard.

"Rose's voice certainly carries, doesn't it?"

He sighed. "So you heard what she said?"

"Yes. I was hoping you hadn't."

"Honestly, Jean, I'd rather know if I look 'grandfatherly.'" The word came out through clenched teeth. He took the glass back from Jean and took a large swallow.

"First off, do I need to remind you that you are, in fact, a grandfather? Li's got a baby of her own. And you're engaged to marry a grandmother, so I hope that doesn't bother you. I have no doubt that Amelia will be calling you 'Grandpa.'"

Lucien couldn't help but smile slightly at that thought. He was very much looking forward to being part of Jean's family. "It isn't that. I just don't feel like an old man, but I suppose I do need to embrace the reality of it." He looked up at her, standing beside where he sat, and smiled softly. "I am sorry, Jean."

"Sorry for what? If you really don't like the cardigan, you don't have to wear it. I won't be offended. Though I did buy it for you and a bit for me as well," she confessed.

"What do you mean?"

Jean smirked slightly. "Lucien, why did you buy me these trousers?"

"I thought you'd like them. And I did want to see you in them," he admitted sheepishly.

She nodded. "Exactly. You wanted to see me look a certain way because it would bring you pleasure. And I've noticed that you do quite like me in the trousers."

Lucien put down the glass and turned his chair so he could put his hands on her trousers. His palms traced the lines of her legs and hips before moving around to the back of her thighs and up. "I certainly do like you in the trousers," he growled, pulling her forward to stand between his open legs where he sat.

Jean grinned, unspeakably pleased that she could have this effect on him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulling his face to her stomach. They were treading a dangerous line with all this touching, but Jean knew they both needed this. "I may have bought your clothes before you bought mine, but our motivations were certainly similar."

He pulled his head back slightly to look up at her quizzically. "You…you wanted to see me in those things you bought?"

"Oh yes. And I do love when you wear sweaters."

"You do?"

She smiled affectionately, her fingers stroking his hair. "Very much. It makes me feel very safe to see you looking relaxed and comfortable. I was so worried for so long that you'd leave this house and I'd be without you because you were off to go on more adventures all by yourself. Having you here, wearing the sweaters, it helps me believe that you're going to stay here with me. That we can have our life together in the comfort of this house. And when you hold me in your arms, so soft and warm, it feels like a glimpse into our future. When I'll finally have you as my husband."

Lucien held her tighter. "Oh my darling Jean. I will never, ever leave you alone. I want nothing more in this life than to make sure that you are safe and happy and loved every single day."

"I know," she murmured with a smile, ducking down to kiss the top of his head.

"Why don't you hand me the sweater?" he asked, releasing her.

Jean retrieved the cardigan with a smug expression, knowing she'd accomplished her goal. Well, not just yet. She helped him put it back on before she sat on his lap, snuggling into his sweater-clad embrace. "I'm actually rather glad Rose doesn't like how you look in this. I don't need her or any woman finding you attractive. You're all mine, and I am the only one who will be taking this sweater off you."

He chuckled. "Is that so?"

"Oh yes. Because as warm as I am snuggling into the sweater, I feel an entirely different sort of heat at the idea of stripping it off you and snuggling into your bare chest," she whispered into his ear before pressing a kiss to his neck.

Lucien's eyes went wide imagining that scenario. He immediately tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her into a passionate kiss. He kept one hand on her trouser-clad leg and she clutched at the fabric of the green cardigan. That green cardigan had suddenly become his favorite item of clothing.


End file.
